


Two Minutes to Midnight

by mahbecks



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chill XV, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Romance, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Super Duper Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/pseuds/mahbecks
Summary: Ignis and Gladio's whole lives are planned out for them; everything revolves around Noctis and they've had the weight of responsibility and expectation on them since they were kids. They've grown up much faster than their peers.But sometimes even they fall prey to teenage whims. So one night, when Noctis is safely with Regis for the whole night, they stage their single night of rebellion.Either way, they've got a LOT of explaining to do when Clarus and Cor get a call at stupid o’clock from the police to come and pick them up!A fill for the Kinkmeme!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely finished with this little ficlet, but it's getting away from me (what else is new, lmao) so I'm posting in pieces as I finish them.

“I'm so fucking done.”

Ignis looked up, surprised not at Gladio's words, but at his tone of his voice. His friend was angry, brows drawn down into a fierce scowl, hands clenched into fists where they rested on his thighs. As he watched, Gladio picked up the remote to the television, turning off the news report that had been playing all afternoon and chucking the control across the room.

Ignis raised his eyebrows. “Something bothering you?” he guessed.

“This.”

“...you'll need to be more specific, Gladio.”

“This.” Gladio spread his arms wide. _“This._ This life, Iggy, this stupid, dumb war with the Nifs, stupid fucking Noctis who won't get his head out of his ass and act like a fucking adult-”

“He's only sixteen, Gladio,” Ignis cut in, voice sharp.

“Yeah, and what were you doin’ at sixteen? What was I doing? It sure as hell wasn’t wasting everyone's goddamn time-”

“Gladio.”

“Oh, fine. Defend him, whatever. I'm still sick of it, sick of everything.”

Ignis set his pen aside, giving his friend his full attention. Gladio was glaring down at his lap now, biting his lip so hard it looked like he might draw blood.

“What is this really about, Gladio?” Ignis murmured. “What has you so frustrated?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't lie to me,” Ignis retorted. He stood, moving from the table to the couch, sitting down beside the much larger boy. Softening his words with a smirk, he added, “You always were terrible at it.”

Gladio snorted, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Only because it's you,” he muttered.

It was an odd statement, one of many Gladio had made over the past few months. Ignis wasn't sure how to interpret it, and so he said nothing in response, merely filing the words away in his mind for later thought.

“It's this,” Gladio continued, nodding his head at the television. Ah. The news report then - word had come in the night of several more villages subsumed by Niflheim. Footage of the decimation had been playing nonstop since. “The war, the Empire… we can't do anything, Iggy. I can't, you can't, Noct can't… hell, Regis can't, and if he can't fix it…”

Ignis nodded, understanding. “The situation is… not ideal.”

Gladio barked out a laugh. “Ain't that the truth.” He paused, laying his head along the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “I don't like not bein’ able to fix it, Iggy. I fucking hate it. I mean, what's the point of even trying if it's all going to shit anyway? Why fucking bother?”

“Because it's what we were chosen to do. In your case, what you were born to do. It's your duty.”

“Oh, fuck that.”

“Gladio-”

“Yeah, I know.” He exhaled deeply through his nose. “I just… wish I could help, yeah? I hate feelin’ this way, feelin’ useless, with no fucking hope, and I'm damn tired of it. I wish it wasn't so hard sometimes. I wish…”

Ignis could commiserate. “I know the feeling.”

“Yeah, bet you do.” Again, Gladio snorted. “Probably the only other person who does, to be honest.”

“I doubt that,” Ignis disagreed. “Your father knows what it's like, certainly. You could speak to him, if you're having doubts about your responsibilities.”

“Like Dad has time to talk to me,” Gladio scoffed. “He's always with Regis nowadays. Gets home late, barely eats, never takes Iris out for ice cream anymore… they used to do that every weekend, y’know. Just the two of them - it was their thing. Ours was sparring in the training rooms.”

“I take it he no longer has time for that either?”

“Nah. Passed me off to Cor ages ago.”

“I'm sorry, Gladio. That must be difficult.”

Gladio turned to face him, a rueful smile on his face. “Look at me,” he said. “Complainin’. Least I have family to complain about.”

Ignis neither wanted nor cared for Gladio's pity. He barely remembered his parents, and had left them when he was a child. But he had chosen this life, known what it had meant. And it wasn't as if he was without friends - Noctis, Gladio, Prompto… he was close with the King as well, and he'd always maintained a good relationship with his uncle. He was not so alone as Gladio seemed to think.

He ignored his friend’s sympathies.

“Complain away, Gladio. You're good at it.”

Gladio laughed. “Ass.”

“I do have one, yes.”

They fell silent for a moment, the only sound in Ignis’ apartment the soft whirring of the dishwasher in the next room. It was comfortable, the tension from earlier displaced, and Ignis wondered what he should do next. He didn't quite feel like returning to his reports just yet, his mood darkened by Gladio's words.

They rang true for him as well. He too hated this feeling, this impotence. The world had been growing darker of late, and there was little they could do to fight it. It was staggering, in a way, to think this war had been going on since he was a child. He had never lived in a world without it. Neither had Gladio. That, combined with their duties to Noctis, had meant that they had both grown up rather fast, foregoing normal childhood events in favor of diplomacy lessons, ceremonial rites, and weapons training.

Perhaps it would have been easier had they some sort of outlet, some way to relieve the stress that so often accompanied their duties. The older politicians did, Ignis was certain. He'd made it a point to know all of their bad habits, all of their reckless expenditures, lest he ever need to make use of such knowledge. It was simply the way the game was played.

He and Gladio might find something similar to do, he supposed. But what would be appropriate for people their age? He had startlingly few ideas.

He looked over at Gladio, who hadn't moved in the few minutes Ignis had sat in quiet contemplation.

“Perhaps we should go out,” he said quietly.

Gladio's head snapped down, mouth slightly open in surprise. “What?”

Ignis shrugged. “One night away from our duties isn't negligence, so long as we make sure Noctis is protected and taken care of,” he explained. “We should go out, do something for no one but ourselves - dare I say it, live a little.”

Gladio blinked and then looked away. “Oh, that's what - that's what you meant.” He shrugged, speaking again before Ignis could question the odd words. “Yeah, sure. What d’you wanna do?”

“Ah…” Ignis hesitated, unsure. “What would you suggest?”

“Can't drink, still not twenty,” Gladio replied, thoughtful. “Least not in public. But we could still go to a club, dance some.”

“Mmm.”

“Not a fan?” Ignis shook his head, the idea of being surrounded by hot, sweating, stinking bodies in a dark room with too loud music and alcohol covering the floor not very appealing to him. “Well, there's strippers, too.”

“Strippers?”

“Yeah. What, you never been to a titty bar?”

Ignis frowned. “I've never been to a bar, let alone a…”

Gladio grinned at him, playfully poking him in the arm. “Titty bar, Iggy, you can say it,” he said.

“Have you been to one?” Ignis asked, ignoring the jibe.

“Couple times,” he replied. “Nyx and Libertus took me and a couple other guys when we turned eighteen.”

“And… was it to your liking?”

“Yeah, sure, tits are great,” Gladio said, nodding. “But you might not like tits, I dunno. You into girls?”

Yes.

Maybe.

...Ignis didn't know. He'd not really had time to pursue a relationship with anything save his own hand, and his fantasies had always tended to involve some hazy, amorphous individual rather than a certain individual. Did he like women? Did he like men? Did he like both, or neither, or-

“It's cool if you aren't,” Gladio said, interpreting his silence for a tacit reply. “We can always go to a male strip club instead.”

Ignis wasn't sure when they'd made a strip club their definite destination, but for the sake of satisfying his curiosity, he pushed on. “Wouldn't that make you uncomfortable?”

“I go both ways, Iggy,” Gladio said flatly. “So yeah, no, not a problem.”

This admission made Ignis feel… strange. It gave him pause. He wasn't disgusted or perturbed or anything like that, of course. Judgment seemed a little hypocritical when he might be attracted to men himself. But he had always assumed Gladio was attracted to women, and so he'd never bothered looking at Gladio in anything other than a strictly platonic way.

...he was rather attractive, wasn't he?

Acutely aware of their proximity, Ignis shifted around on the couch a little, pulling at a loose string to occupy his hands.

“Is there one that showcases both men and women?” he asked, eyes fixed on the thread and not Gladio's face.

“Sure, lots.”

“That would suffice then. If we're really going to do this, that is.”

“Do you want to?” Gladio caught his hand, making Ignis go still. He released it a moment later, but Ignis still felt the imprint on his arm, the lingering heat of it making his skin break out in goosebumps.

Strange.

“I suggested we go out, didn't I?” Ignis retorted.

“Yeah, well, you don't seem all that into it, to be honest. Look, we don't have to go see strippers. We can just… go grab a bite, see a movie or something-”

“No.” Ignis was surprised by the vehemence in his voice. Gladio was too, if his expression was anything to go by.

“That would defeat the purpose, I think,” Ignis continued. “We could do that any night with Noct and Prompto.”

“You wanna make this something different,” Gladio said, nodding.

“Yes,” Ignis replied. “Something we won't soon forget.”

Gladio studied him a moment before breaking into a wolfish grin. “I can guarantee you won't, Iggy. Not if I'm plannin’ things.”

Ignis frowned. “Who said you were-”

“I did. You plan enough shit for Noct. Lemme take care of the organization, for once.”

Ignis pursed his lips. Much as he hated to lose control over anything, it did seem to be in line with the spirit of this whole endeavor. He nodded, pulling out his phone to check his calendar.

“I'll send you a list of dates Noctis is spending in the Citadel, under the protection of Cor’s men and women. I'm never expected to stay with him on such occasions.”

In fact, Regis actively encouraged Ignis to take those nights off, but Ignis had never quite known what to do with himself. The last time it had happened, he'd ended up reading a book on the Empire’s recent technological projects while Noctis had played video games.

“Sounds good,” Gladio said. “I'll find one that works for both of us. Hey, so is there anything you absolutely won't do?”

“Excuse me?”

“If were make make this a night to remember, Iggy, we gotta do more than just go to a strip club. I got a few ideas, but I don't wanna do something you're totally opposed to. So spill.”

“I…”

“Yeah?”

“Illegal drugs, probably.”

“Shit, yeah, I wasn't thinkin’ anything _that_ hard-”

“Well, you asked,” Ignis snapped.

“Yeah, okay. Go on.”

“No prostitutes.”

“Check.”

“Nothing that could appear on my permanent record.”

“Where's the fun in that?”

“ _Nothing that could appear_ -”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.”

Ignis tried to think of anything else he might find objectionable. When he came up with nothing else, he told Gladio as much. His friend nodded, his eyes already distant as he started to think.

It was happening, then, Ignis mused. They were really going to do this.

The thought was as terrifying as it was thrilling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two! Shenanigans start next chapter ;)

Gladio shuffled his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Ignis was late.

Gladio was trying not to read too much into that - things happened, yeah? But this was the night they have agreed to go out, something Ignis had suggested but not seemed thrilled about, and Gladio couldn't help but think maybe the guy had had second thoughts. He checked his phone, making sure Ignis hadn't tried to call or text him, but there were no new notifications on his home screen. He slipped the phone away, leaning back against the building just across the street from Ignis’ apartment, telling himself to just relax, to be cool.

It was harder than he'd thought.

He'd really been looking forward to this. He wasn't sure why - the thought of doing something he knew he shouldn't, maybe, or the thought of just being _normal_ for a change. Going out with a friend, grabbing a bite, staying up late with the bottle of bourbon he’d borrowed from his dad's liquor cabinet…

Ok, so he'd taken it. But it wasn't like he could've asked - he was still nineteen, a year away from full legality, and while Clarus Amicitia wasn't a total hardass, he also didn't encourage illegal behavior. Even if, as Gladio highly suspected, he'd done his own share of dumb shit when he was younger.

Surprisingly, Gladio hadn't. A few trips to some of Insomnia’s seedier establishments notwithstanding, he'd been a good kid. He'd gotten good marks in school, and he'd always come home at the end of the day. He'd never smoked, never done drugs, never had more than one glass of champagne at royal functions. There were the tattoos, yeah, but those weren't rebellion, those were _tradition_ , a family thing - hell, his father had recommended what artist he go see. Totally didn't count.

At least, he didn't think so.

Ignis didn't seem like the kinda guy who'd done much acting out, either. He followed the rules - or bended them to suit his needs, on occasion, but he sure as hell didn't openly _break_ them. He had an image to maintain, people to impress - that sort of shit.

Which was why Gladio had been so surprised that Ignis had been the one to suggest they do this. He hoped the guy wasn't doing this just for Gladio's sake - he'd have been just as happy to order a couple pizzas and spend a night playing video games or watching movies, maybe with some occasional venting about shared responsibilities and honor. But he wasn't gonna say no to going out for a night. Hell, it sounded like fun. He'd always wondered what Ignis would be like when he let loose. Now he would finally get to see.

“I apologize for being late.”

Gladio looked up to see Ignis striding towards him, cheeks tinged red. He looked flustered, breathing a little hard as he came to a stop before Gladio.

“Traffic accident near the Citadel,” Ignis panted. “Took me ages to get away.”

Gladio nodded, too busy watching a single bead of sweat roll down Ignis’ neck to reply.

“So then - where to first?”

Gladio shoved off the wall. “That what you're wearin’?”

Ignis looked down at his sweater and slacks. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?”

“Bit formal,” Gladio replied.

Not that formal was a bad thing. Hell no, not if your pants hugged your ass that well-

“Shall I go change?”

“Got any jeans?”

Ignis gave him a flat look, even as he led the way back across the road to his apartment building. “Of course I have jeans,” he retorted.

“Never seen you wear ‘em,” Gladio shot back.

“I've never had a reason to wear them in the Citadel.”

“We aren't in the Citadel right now, are we?”

Ignis sighed, unlocking the door to his apartment and then holding it open for Gladio. “I'll be just a moment.”

Gladio nodded and settled in to wait in the living room, trying not to think on the fact that Ignis was getting very close to naked in the next room. He could almost hear the rustle of fabric against skin, the way his pants would fall and pool around his feet-

_Fucking hell, this ain't a date, man, keep it in your pants._

It was something he'd had to tell himself more and more often when it came to Ignis. He couldn't help it, not really. The guy was just so… well, it was safe to say that Gladiolus Amicitia had a type when it  came to guys. It was also safe to say that Ignis Scientia was _it._ He was charming, and witty, and cute as hell, and the way he knew a little something about everything?

So hot.

He'd not done anything about it, though. He'd never been able to tell if Ignis was into him or not, his attempts at flirting met with frowns and raised eyebrows. Sometimes it seemed like Ignis was onto him; he'd open his mouth and start to say something, ask a question, only to backpedal a minute later and switch the subject. It was frustrating for Gladio. And Ignis had to know what Gladio was doing - he wasn't an idiot. So if he'd not done something, it had to be because he didn't want to, yeah?

Gladio could take it. He was a big boy.

Didn't do much to help the situation in his pants, but yeah, he was good.

“Is this better?”

Gladio looked up to a fucking vision - Ignis in a pair of skin tight jeans and a coeurl print shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows. He'd also taken the time to gel his hair back, and Gladio could smell freshly applied cologne from across the room.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, trying to make his leering as subtle as he could. “Much.”

“Alright, then. Let's go.”

Gladio led the way downstairs, not trusting he and his suddenly hard cock to walk behind Ignis. Too risky. Too obvious.

But Ignis wasn't making it easier, drawling on about his day in that damn sexy voice of his as they made their way down the street. Every so often he'd turn towards Gladio, smirking about something he found funny, and the way it would quirk his lips up made Gladio look at his lips, and then he’d think about how nice they’d look wrapped around his-

“Gladio?”

Gladio blinked, snapping his gaze back up to Ignis’ eyes. His smile had faded somewhat, brows sinking down over his eyes in concern.

“What?” Gladio asked.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

_Shit._

“Ah… what question was that?”

“Is there food wherever we’re going? I haven't eaten since this morning.”

Gladio relaxed, even though Ignis was still staring at him with a curious look on his face. This was a simple question, something he could answer.

“Yeah, there’s food,” he said, motioning for them to turn at the next intersection. “If you’re willin’ to risk it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gladio snorted. “People don’t go there for the food, Iggy,” he explained. “You tell me how good you think it’s gonna be.”

“...I see your point.”

“But hey, we got plenty of time. Wanna stop somewhere else for a bite first?”

“That might be best. Where would you care to go?”

Gladio nodded, looking around the street to see what was nearby. Not much, it looked like - a few diners, a coffee shop that looked like it catered to the night crowd, and one fancy restaurant on the corner with a little patio hung with fairy lights. What would Ignis like?

His first instinct was the place on the corner. That was the type of food Iggy was always trying to get Noct to eat, right? Haute cuisine, or whatever it was called? Price wasn’t an issue; Gladio had had a platinum credit card since he was old enough to walk. He could probably have bought the restaurant if he’d wanted.

The problem was, the place was also romantic.

Like _really_ romantic. In the dictionary, beside the word “romantic”, there was probably a picture of this restaurant.

And he didn’t want Ignis to think this was a date. Because that wasn’t what this night was, no matter how much Gladio might wish otherwise. This was a friends thing, totally platonic, just two guys going out and having fun and not giving a shit about responsibility or duty or anything else.

Totally.

“Gladio?”

He turned. Somehow, he’d gotten a few steps ahead of Ignis, and it took the other a moment to catch up with him.

“Trying to leave me behind?” Ignis asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gladio snorted. “Nah, sorry.”

“Have you decided on a place to eat?”

Gladio hesitated. Shit, what did he do? Ignis was watching him, waiting for an answer.

_Ah, what the hell._

“How ‘bout there?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the restaurant.

Ignis’ other question snapped up to join the other. “Il Stellata?” he asked, surprise coloring his voice. His eyes flicked over to the patio, taking in the little candles decorating the tables and the way ivy was climbing along the wrought iron fencing surrounding the patio. “A little pricey, don’t you think?”

“I got it,” Gladio said quickly. “No worries.”

Ignis was silent, still staring.

Gladio shuffled on his feet, wondering what Ignis was thinking. “We can go somewhere else if you want,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets again, “I just thought you might like the food there best.”

“No, no, I-” Ignis looked back at Gladio, offering him a tentative smile. “I would love to go there.”

Gladio brightened. “Yeah?” he asked.

“I’ve never been,” Ignis continued, taking a few hesitant steps toward the restaurant. “A little out of my way, for one, and a little expensive. Not to mention it’s…”

Gladio came to stand beside him. “It’s what?” he asked.

Ignis’ voice was very quiet when he replied. “It’s the sort of place you don’t go alone.”

“So let’s go then,” Gladio said, trying to lighten the mood with a grin. “Together.”

Ignis shot him a look, one of those indecipherable ones he was so good at giving. Gladio hated the expression almost as much as he loved it.

“Alright,” he said.

Which was how they found themselves seated at a little booth in the corner, sipping fancy Altissian cream soda and munching on breadsticks as they perused the rest of the menu and decided what they would get for their entrees. Gladio was leaning towards the veal parmesan, with a side of buttered pasta; he’d need something hearty in his stomach if he was gonna drink any of the bourbon he’d taken. But he also didn’t want to look like a pig, not at a place at this.

Not in front of Ignis.

He conveniently ignored the fact that Ignis had seen him eat a million times before and was no stranger to the massive amounts of calories he tended to consume.

“I think I’ll have the lobster ravioli,” Ignis announced, snapping his menu shut.

Gladio loked up. “Yeah?”

“I’m curious about the sauce, mostly,” Ignis explained. “A white wine cream sauce instead of the usual marinara. They also use truffle oil; I’m interested to see how it will affect the taste.”

Gladio wasn’t much of a cook himself, and the names of the ingredients Ignis had listed meant nothing to him. “Sounds good,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound like he was totally unenthused.

“Very.”

Their waiter returned then, and they placed their orders and handed over their menus. Much to Gladio’s delight, they fell into easy conversation as they waited for their food. It was easier to talk to Ignis like this, sitting at the table the same way they did almost every day for lunch. He could focus on Ignis’ face, and the way the candlelight played against his angular features.

And not other things - like the curve of his ass as he walked.

“Gladio.”

Ah, shit, had he missed another question? Gladio tensed, waiting to be berated for not paying attention. To his surprise, Ignis smiled at him - a true smile, one of the rare, soft ones he usually reserved for when Noctis had accomplished something.

“I - thank you.”

Gladio blinked. “For what? Dinner?” He grinned, trying to cover up his nervousness. “Don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it. It could totally suck.”

Ignis snorted. “I doubt that,” he murmured. “But I wasn’t referring to dinner, no. I meant, thank you for tonight. For doing this with me. For going to all of the trouble of planning it out.”

Oh.

“I appreciate it,” Ignis continued. “More than I think I’ve let on.” He lifted his glass to his lips, taking a sip of soda. “You aren’t the only one who needed a break.”

“Yeah?” Unthinking, Gladio brought his hand up, nudging Ignis’ where it lay across the table. “Well, I’m glad we’re doin’ this, then. It'll be good for us.”

Ignis had frozen when Gladio had touched him. He was still staring down at their hands, lips slightly parted.

Gladio hastily removed his fingers, tucking them back into his lap. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you-”

“You didn’t.”

“...No?”

“No.”

He looked up at Gladio, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and it took every ounce of self-control Gladio possessed to stifle the groan that wanted to bubble out of his chest. That had to have been on purpose, right? No one just licked their fucking lips like that. And the way Ignis was staring at him, there was heat in that gaze, something that looked a lot like -

“Here you are, sir!”

Gladio let out the breath he'd been holding, sitting back as a hot plate of food was settled in front of him.

“And you, sir!” the waiter said, depositing Ignis’ ravioli before him. “Can I get you anything else?”

 _Yeah, can I have that moment back?_  he thought, dejected.  _The one you just ruined?_

“I think we’re fine, for the moment,” Ignis said smoothly, “Thank you.”

“Of course!”

Gladio didn’t move, even when the waiter had left. Neither did Ignis, though they couldn’t quite seem to meet each other in the eyes.

Dammit. For a second there, Gladio had really thought… well, shit, he’d thought maybe something had happened. There had been a vibe, a definite _feeling_ , something unspeakable passing between them. It hadn’t been just him, right?

He chanced a glance up.

A flush was staining Ignis’ collarbones, exposed by the collar of his shirt. His nostrils were flared too, like he was breathing a little harder than he had been a moment ago. He noticed Gladio staring then, his eyes flicking up and then away as soon as he made eye contact. "Shall we eat?" he asked, voice breathy. 

_Fuck me._

Gladio wasn’t wrong. There _had_ been a moment.

He and Ignis fucking Scientia were having a romantic dinner together. Later, they were going to a strip club, and after that, Gladio had planned on crashing at Ignis’ place, stolen alcohol and cigars hidden in the bag in his car.

Ignis’ place - Ignis’ _bed._

Gladio’s stomach clenched with heat.

Aw, fuck.

He was so fucking screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

Ignis felt incredibly stupid.

The strange comments Gladio had made of late, the light touches when a hand motion would have sufficed, the way Gladio's eyes lit up whenever Ignis paid him a compliment or said something amusing…

It was _attraction._

Of course it was - and in hindsight, it was so blaringly obvious. Ignis’ face felt red and hot as he tried and failed to hide his embarrassment at having taken so long to figure out the truth. How had he missed this? How could he have overlooked something as obvious as his closest friend _hitting_ on him?

It was entirely irksome - as was the fact that he had no idea what to do about it.

He pushed himself to his feet and excused himself before Gladio could notice his silence, walking back into the restaurant in search of the restroom. He needed a moment alone, a moment without Gladio’s suddenly confusing presence. Perhaps he could even splash some cool water on his face, lessen the flush staining his cheeks.

Not likely, given that he would then have to go out and face Gladio once again, but it was worth trying.

The bathroom was small, made for one person at a time. For this Ignis was grateful - it allowed him to lock the door and sink back against it, inhaling deeply and then forcefully exhaling a few times to calm his racing heart. He braced his hands against the wood, tracing the whirls of the grain with his fingers as he attempted to process this new development.

Gladio was his friend. His best friend, his partner in protecting Noctis, the one person he knew would always understand, would always have his back.

Gladio also _wanted_ him. He hadn’t said so, not in so many words, but it was only logical. Everything added up.

This gave Ignis pause - did Gladio want a relationship, then? Or did he just want to fuck him?

...maybe he’d rather Ignis do the fucking.

A light groan left Ignis’ lips, one of his private fantasies springing to life in his mind. Someone, their voice hazy with arousal and need, begging him to fuck them, hard and fast, until they came, writhing beneath Ignis, clawing at his back. This someone had never had a face before - there had been skin, and hands, and a mouth, but never anything suggesting specific features. 

Now, his brain saw fit to replace that vague individual with Gladio.

Some powerful feeling swept over Ignis, leaving him weak at the knees and setting his heart racing again. With a start, he realized he was hard, and before he realized what he was doing, he’d palmed himself through his trousers.

It felt good - _very_ good, and the way Gladio was pleading with him in his mind’s eye, desperate for Ignis to fuck him, had him bucking up into his palm.

But no, this was entirely inappropriate - he was in a public restroom, for goodness’ sake, an entire restaurant of people beyond the other side of the door. Not to mention, he was thinking of his best friend while touching himself - and while he didn’t think Gladio would have a problem with that, something seemed indecent about it. Illicit, even. He hadn’t even decided how he truly felt about this latest development, whether or not _he_ wanted Gladio in the same way. It seemed obvious, what with his body's reaction, but these things required more thought, more introspection than he'd given them.

Reluctantly, he released himself, trying to calm his nerves and force back the heady desire that had taken ahold of him. He stood, walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet. Without hesitation, he tore off his gloves and stuck his hands under the spray, filling them with icy cold water and splashing it onto his face.

He gasped as the first droplets hit his skin, but quickly forced himself to repeat the motion, again and again, until he felt more level-headed. Only then did he reach out for a paper towel.

Ignis caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he moved to throw the crumpled paper away. His hair was a little mussed, his cheeks still slightly pink - but his appearance was much improved from before, much less likely to arouse suspicion.

He stayed in front of the mirror longer than he should have, studying his features. What did Gladio see in him, he wondered? What did he see when he looked at Ignis?

Ignis wasn’t vain, but nor was he was overly self-conscious. Objectively, he thought he was at least passingly attractive. And he had had his fair share of suitors over the years - all of which he had turned down, of course, but their interest confirmed the notion that he wasn’t unappealing.

Did Gladio find him winsome? Handsome, attractive? He must have, if Ignis was interpreting these signs correctly. But then what about Ignis did he like? Was it his eyes? His angular jaw? His lean physique? Perhaps it was a combination. Ignis had seen some of the girls Gladio had dated over the years, none of whom even vaguely resembled him. It would be more helpful if he knew of any of the men to whom Gladio was attracted. But whether by happenstance or purposeful occlusion, Gladio had kept his male lovers to himself. He’d done it so well that Ignis hadn’t even known his friend was _attracted_ to other men before a few days ago.

He snorted, shaking his head.

So much for being observant to a fault.

There was a knock at the door, and Ignis started, surprised.

“Hey, Iggy? You in there?”

Gladio.

He’d come to check on Ignis, make sure he was alright.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine, Gladio,” Ignis said. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and then reached for the door handle.

Gladio was standing on the opposite side, hands shoved in his pockets. It was a nervous gesture, as was when he ran his hands back through his hair. Both were learned behaviors, things he’d picked up from Clarus - something Gladio vehemently denied, of course. The thought made Ignis smile, and Gladio visibly relaxed at the sight of it.

“Good,” he said. “Just checkin’. Wanted to make sure it wasn’t the food, or… you’re good?”

Or what?

Ignis desperately wanted to ask. But he held his tongue, nodding, and led the way back to their table in silence. Gladio didn’t seem to like the quiet. As soon as Ignis sat down, he initiated a conversation about some new training method the Crownsguard was thinking of employing. Ignis listened as he ate, offering input when necessary. He had to wonder if Gladio was nervous; he didn’t normally talk this much. Did he think he’d made a mistake in asking Ignis here, in touching his hand? Did he think Ignis’ abrupt departure was Gladio’s fault?

It was, Ignis supposed - but not because of anything Gladio had done.

Once he was finished eating, Gladio called their waiter over and quickly paid the bill. Ignis protested, saying he was more than willing to pay his share, but Gladio had none of it.

“It’s nothing, Iggy,” he said. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

It wasn’t nothing. It was generous, and kind, and, under slightly different circumstances, tantamount to a date. But Ignis recognized Gladio’s stubborn voice when he heard it, and so he merely pursed his lips and waited for the man to return with Gladio’s credit card so they could leave.

“Gods, that was good,” Gladio said. “I’m fuckin’ stuffed.”

Ignis eyed him askance as they crossed the street. “Well, you _did_ eat all of your food and what was left of mine,” he replied.

“Didn’t want it to go to waste.”

Ignis shivered as a sudden gust of cool, night air hit them, drawing his arms in a bit closer to his chest. He hadn’t noticed the chill settling in back at the restaurant, where heat lamps and proximity had kept the air warm and comfortable. But out here on the street, it was decidedly cooler, and he regretted that he hadn’t had the foresight to bring a jacket.

“You cold?”

Gladio’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “Just a little,” Ignis admitted. “Nothing to worry about. I trust we’re not far from our destination?”

“Eh, it’s a few more blocks. Here.” Gladio shrugged out of his leather jacket, handing it off to Ignis.

Ignis blinked at the offered garment, and then eyed Gladio’s thin t-shirt. “Your shirt’s even less suited to this weather than mine,” he said.

“Take it,” Gladio insisted. He grinned. “I’m always hot, Iggy, you know that.”

Yes, he did. Ignis was aware of it now more than ever, eyeing the way Gladio’s biceps bulged beneath the bands of his sleeves, how tight the fabric was across his chest, how he could almost see the faint ridges of abdominal muscles beneath the lettering on the front -

“Iggy?”

Ignis took the jacket, swallowing to ease his suddenly dry mouth. He threw it around his shoulders, adjusting it as best he could to account for his smaller stature. As he moved, he realized the leather _smelled_ like Gladio - warm and spicy and masculine, and Ignis fought not to breathe it in.

Gladio was looking at him oddly, and Ignis frowned, focusing on that instead of the intoxicating scent enveloping him. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothin’,” Gladio replied. The heat from earlier was back in his eyes, and he took a half-step closer to Ignis without seeming to realize it. “You look good in leather.”

Ignis blinked, that same, lusty feeling from before lancing through him again. Was it because he liked the thought of Gladio finding him attractive? Did he… did he _want_ Gladio to want him? It wasn’t something he’d considered back in the bathroom, his mind more occupied with berating himself for having missed the attraction in the first place. He hadn’t had the thought to actually consider how it might be to _covet_ that attraction.

But now, standing here, Gladio looking at him like _that…_ Ignis felt powerful. Gladio was an attractive man - maddeningly so, according to some. That he seemed to desire Ignis...  

It was making his head spin, as surely as it would have if he’d been intoxicated, and Ignis half-wondered if Gladio was going to kiss him. He had taken another half-step closer, edging into Ignis’ space, eyes locked on Ignis’ face.

He wouldn’t mind, he decided - if Gladio did decide to kiss him, that was.

He even thought he might like it.

But then Gladio stepped back, taking a few more steps down the street, and Ignis released the breath he’d been holding, relieved and disappointed at the same time.

They didn’t speak as they walked the remaining distance to the strip club Gladio had chosen. It was a tense silence, heavy with meaning and intent. Ignis kept opening his mouth, thinking to say something, only to snap it back closed a minute later. It seemed Gladio had a similar problem - he would turn to Ignis, watch him for a moment, and then turn away, shaking his head at himself.

What a pair the two of them made.

They heard the club before they saw it. Heavily synthesized music filled the air, the bass so prominent, Ignis could feel it thrumming in his chest. The rhythm was low and somewhat sensual; it made Ignis’ skin itch in a way that was only partially unpleasant. He looked over at Gladio, wanting to gauge his friend’s reaction to the music. He was bobbing his head to the beat, hips already falling in sync with the movements.

A line was queuing outside the door, people stopping to flash their identification to the man standing at the club’s entrance. Ignis found he was a little nervous as he reached for his wallet. What would he find on the other side of the door? Why lay beyond the faded red brick and concrete?

He must have muttered this last out loud, for Gladio snorted, and said, “Tits and ass, Iggy. Tits and ass.”

The bouncer gave their ID’s only a cursory glance before ushering the two of them inside. Ignis was immediately assaulted by a plethora of sensations - the music was twice as loud in here, the lighting fluorescent and glaring, and the heat was nearly overwhelming. The air was filled with the stench of alcohol and smoke, and Ignis felt glitter crunch beneath his feet as they walked over to a corner and claimed an empty booth, sliding into the space behind the table.

A woman was dancing on a nearby platform. She was nearly nude, a very, very tiny undergarment the only thing covering her skin. Gladio looked entranced as she walked around the platform, using a pole attached to the ceiling as a prop, his eyes glued to how her large breasts moved as she walked.

Ignis, meanwhile, couldn’t help but think that she looked rather tired, the sensuality in her movements not quite meeting her eyes.

Another woman walked over to them, a tiny apron tied around her waist. She smiled at them, pulling a pencil and notepad out of a pocket. “Can I get you fella’s something?” she asked, curling the end of one long tail of hair around the end of her pencil. “Drinks? Some appetizers? Something a little more… satisfying?”

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Ignis managed.

“No?” The woman’s grin turned into a smirk. “Y’know, we got some couples rooms in the back, if you want something a little more… private.”

Ignis’ stomach lurched, any response he might have had dying on his lips.  

Luckily, Gladio wasn’t quite as fazed. “Ah, no thanks,” he said. “We’re not together.”

The woman’s smile faded, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hair. “No?” she asked. “Oh! Sorry ‘bout that. Y’all just… had a bit of a vibe. My mistake.”

A vibe. Ignis cringed - was he that obvious? Could Gladio feel it? 

But Gladio was as nonplussed as ever, grinning at the waitress. “No worries,” he said. "It's all good."

She hastily made her exit, and Gladio scooted a little closer to Ignis, throwing an arm around his shoulders and poking him in the side, grinning at him. “Whaddaya think, Iggy?” he asked. “Is this place great, or what?”

Ignis watched as the woman on stage nearly bent herself in half. “I… suppose,” he replied.

Was this supposed to be arousing? Was he supposed to be impressed by her flexibility? He could stretch himself into much more complicated positions. And besides, her breasts were nearly smacking her in the face as she gyrated around upside down.

That hardly looked comfortable.

“You don’t like it.”

Ignis turned, surprised at how close Gladio’s face was to his. “We’ve only been here a few minutes,” he protested.

“Yeah, and you haven’t looked anyone in the face ‘cept me,” Gladio pointed out.

Ignis shifted in his seat, Gladio’s arm like a brand on his back. He couldn’t deny it, of course. He hadn’t really paid attention of any of the several women who’d passed by their table. It wasn’t that they weren’t attractive, or enticing, or… whatever else they were supposed to be. It was more that he had no interest in them. 

“Okay, so how ‘bout a guy?”

Gladio pointed to a man dancing on a stage across the room, oiled abdominal muscles glinting as he danced for a crowd of men and women. Several were throwing gil at him, beckoning him forward so that they could stuff the bills into the band of his underwear. He grinned at them, sauntering over and sticking out his hips. One woman reached out to touch the slight bulge in the front of his thong, and the dancer caught her wrist, shaking his finger at her as he grinned and danced away.

He reminded Ignis of Gladio - the easy confidence, the lazy grin.

They looked nothing alike, of course, and Ignis had never seen Gladio in such little attire. But it was so easy to pretend that that _was_ Gladio, the build and stature nearly the same. He found himself wondering what it be like if Gladio were to dance for  _him_ that way. To seduce him, lure him in, draw him close and kiss him senseless. 

The dancer seemed to notice Ignis staring, looking up. He winked, smirking, and did a complicated little move that had Ignis more than a little flushed - and not just from how hot it was in the room, either.

Again, Ignis was reminded of Gladio. And again, just as it had earlier in the bathroom, he felt his cock harden in response. It happened so quickly, so _fast;_ he was nearly painfully hard in his pants, blood near boiling with want. Had he ever felt so desperate for sex before? So wanton?

And it had to happen _now,_ of all places?

He shifted, this time trying to hide his arousal, hoping that Gladio wouldn’t notice it.

Of course, he had no such luck.

“Shit, are you - fuck, you are.”

“That isn’t - no,” Ignis retorted, shaking his head.

“Iggy, c’mon - I don’t care, promise. I like guys too, remember?”

“I’m not attracted to that man,” Ignis said stubbornly.

“Yeah? You got a potion in your pants, then?”

Gladio had him there.

“Look, it’s not a big deal. Happens, especially at a place like this. We can go find some seats over there, if you want. I think I see a couple-”

“I don’t want to move,” Ignis said quietly.

“...no?”

“Here is just fine.”

“Here.” Gladio blinked at him. “With the ladies?” He tilted his head to the side a bit, peering up at Ignis through impossibly long lashes. “Or here… with me?”

Ignis said nothing, fighting to think of an appropriate response.

Gladio shifted even closer, their thighs touching, free hand ghosting over the fabric of Ignis’ pants. He kept his eyes fixed upon Ignis, no doubt looking for any sign of discomfort. Ignis made sure to give him none, even as his heart threatened to burst out of his ribcage in anticipation.

“That guy has you all worked up,” Gladio murmured. “But you said you aren’t attracted to him. That right?”

Ignis nodded.

“Then it’s gotta be something else. Something that guys reminds you of - or someone.” Gladio’s hand moved a little higher, his movements concealed by the table. Ignis’ breath hitched when his friend’s fingers grew a little bolder in their quest, edging closer to his groin. Ignis’ eyes flitted shut, head leaning back against the wall. Just a little closer, and -

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

Ignis’ eyes snapped open. Gladio was staring at him, the question sincere. It might have come across as arrogant, had the situation been different. But Gladio looked earnest, delighted even - the beginnings of a smile playing across his lips.

Barely perceptible, Ignis nodded his head.

“I think so,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” Gladio chuckled then, ducking his head. “I, uh… this is probably super fucking obvious, Iggy, but I think you’re probably the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He looked up again, hand tightening on Ignis’ thigh. "I thought you didn't like me that way. You never responded when I tried flirtin'-"

"It's... recent," Ignis admitted. "I... wasn't aware you wanted... in _that_ way until earlier."

"Earlier." Gladio blinked, understanding on his face. "Shit, like the  _restaurant_ earlier?"

"There's no need to sound so shocked," Ignis snapped.

"I - shit, I thought I'd made it obvious."

He sounded so sincere, so apologetic, that Ignis felt guilty for snapping. He sighed. "You did," he murmured. "It was. I suppose I was just too..." Too what? Unobservant? Oblivious? _Stupid_?

"Hey." Gladio put a hand under his chin, forcing his head up. "Don't go beatin' yourself up about it, Iggy. Not like I ever actually asked you out or kissed you or anything."

"Did you want to?" 

"Huh?"

"Did you want to kiss me?"

Gladio paused, eyes drifting down to Ignis' lips. "Iggy," he said quietly, "I wanna do a helluva lot more than kiss you."

Ignis couldn't help it - a moan escaped his lips, barely audible. But it was loud enough for Gladio to hear. He leaned forward, free hand cupping Ignis' face, something akin to a growl climbing its way out of his throat -

“Oh, boys!”

They jerked apart, a woman’s tinkling laughter breaking the moment. Another dancer had appeared, helping the other off the stage, a box of something in her hands.

“Here! On the house!” She thrust the box towards them, winking, and then leaned forward, lowering her voice. “We've been looking for a few handsome young men like yourselves all night," she added, her voice secretive and hushed. "We're having a little get-together, you see, me and some of the others. Invites only. Wanna come? Back room, tell the bouncer Vee sent you. And there's more of that," she said, pointing to the box, "where that came from." 

With another wink and a saunter, she was off, leaving the two alone once again. Ignis cursed the woman’s timing, sinking down into the booth with a groan. Beside him, he could feel the irritation rolling off Gladio, even as he picked up the box, studying it.

“What’s in there?” he asked.

Gladio checked, snorting at what he saw. “Cigars,” he said. “Fuckin’ cigars. And they invited us back to their private room.”

“Why, I wonder?”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Iggy, you know why. Look at us - we scream young, available, and horny.”

" _S_ _ex?”_

Gladio snorted. “Only if you’re lucky.” He sighed. “Shit. Normally, I’d be all over this sorta thing.”

There was an unspoken “but” at the end of the sentence, and Ignis perked up, hopeful that perhaps the moment hadn’t been ruined after all. “It would be rude not to make an appearance,” he mused.

“Yeah. Probably. I don’t fucking care. I just wanna get out of here. Go somewhere alone.”

Ignis' heart thudded in his chest. “Perhaps this is too forward of me,” he said slowly, "but... the night is young, yes?"

Gladio’s head turned towards him. “You-”

“And my apartment is nearby if you wanted to...” Ignis trailed off, uncertainty hitting him hard at the raw want in Gladio’s stare, not the slightest bit mitigated even after the untimely interruption. It made Ignis’ mouth go dry, and he found he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Luckily, Gladio had always been good at reading him.

He grabbed Ignis' hand, tangling their fingers together. "Hell yeah," he said. "If you're in, I'm in."

Ignis considered for a moment, a list of the ramifications and consequences for what this might mean for their relationship running through his mind. Some might caution against it - fraternizing with a colleague, with a close friend. But this was Gladio, not just some random coworker.

And Ignis didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone so badly as he wanted Gladio in that moment. 

"I'm in."


	4. Chapter 4

Fuck.

 _Fucking_ shit, dammit.

Gladio accidentally bumped into a table of guys, automatically turning to mutter an apology as he meandered through the strip club. It had been an accident, really - his motor skills weren't the best right now. Would anyone’s have been, knowing that their best friend and secret crush had just admitted that they found you hot and kinda sorta maybe wanted to do something about it? Yeah, he doubted it.

Plus, he was kinda big. That shit tended to happen when you took up a lot of space.

He turned, looking to see if Ignis was still following him. He didn't have to - their hands were still linked, and he could hear Ignis’ shoes tapping on the floor with each step he took. But it felt good, yeah? Looking behind him and seeing Ignis there, a tentative smile on his face?

Gladio shook his head, grinning. He still couldn't quite believe it - Ignis was digging him. Gladio hardly dared to breathe, in case this wasn't real. His luck had always been mediocre at best, and this, something he'd wanted for literally years, finally happening? It kinda felt like he was cashing in all his good karma at once.

He still wasn't sure what had changed with Ignis, why he was only now responding to Gladio’s flirtation. Maybe it just was the strip club, the hint of sex hanging in the air, or maybe it had been the dinner and all those weighty looks they'd exchanged. Perhaps it was something else entirely. But Ignis wanted him - _him,_ Gladio, the guy who teased him about how much he worked and raided his fridge every other day. There was no mistaking it - Gladio had seen the look in Ignis’ too bright eyes, had heard him moan, had almost fucking touched his _cock._

He somehow managed to stumble his way to the back of the room, finally relaxing when they reached a dark, narrow hallway. There were less people here, and Ignis moved to stand beside him, shuffling from one foot to the next.

Was he nervous? Probably. Gladio kinda was, though his tells were different.

But was Ignis anxious about going to the back room?

Or was it a different kind of nervous, the kind of nervous you got from being around someone you were attracted to?

Gladio hoped it was the second, his hand tightening around Ignis’ fingers.

“You okay?”

Ignis looked up at the question. “I'm fine,” he replied. “A little apprehensive, perhaps.”

“Yeah? Me too.”

Ignis snorted. “You're far less outside your comfort zone than I,” he murmured.

Gladio laughed. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But hey, I've never been in a back room before. So we're both new at this. That makes it a little easier, yeah?”

“A little,” Ignis agreed.

Gladio pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against, looking for the bouncer the woman who'd invited them back here had mentioned. The movement made him brush against Ignis, and he made to step back, not wanting - okay, _wanting_ to, but knowing he shouldn't push it - to invade Ignis’ space. But before he could, Ignis was leaning into him, and Gladio could smell the clean, herbal scent he'd come to associate with Ignis. Gladio was suddenly very hesitant to move, and he looked down at Ignis.

Ignis offered him a small smile, leaning forward just a bit more, and for a second Gladio thought Ignis was going to stand up on his tiptoes and kiss him. But then he stepped away, relinquishing his grip on Gladio's hand, and Gladio huffed, disappointed.

 _One of these times,_ he thought to himself. He'd get a break eventually. Finally get that kiss.

He hoped.

Ignis walked over to a man near the end of the hall. His muscles were bulging out of his plain t-shirt, and he was eyeing the two of them suspiciously. “Need something?” he grunted, voice deep and soft.

“Yes, actually. We were sent here by a woman named Vee?” Ignis offered, polite as ever.

The man relaxed, nodding, and waved at a door across from him. “Through there,” he said. “No weapons, no funny business.”

“Of course, thank you,” Ignis replied, moving towards the door the bouncer had pointed out. Gladio was close behind him, keeping one hand at the small of Ignis’ back. Not out of any real need to do so, but because he wanted to. He hoped Ignis didn’t mind.

Judging from the way he pushed back against Gladio’s hand, making sure Gladio’s palm was flat against his skin, he didn’t.

The door was unlocked, and Ignis opened it wordlessly. Together, they stepped into a very red room, candles filling the room with a soft, rosy light. Plush little couches sat along the walls, along with tables bedecked with every type of alcohol and finger food imaginable. Several groups of people were present - mostly dancers, it seemed, but with a few guests as well. Everyone looked up as Gladio and Ignis stepped into the room, their conversations quieting, faces expectant.

“Uh, hi,” Gladio offered, holding up a hand in greeting.

“Good evening,” Ignis added - rather stiffly, Gladio noted. He stepped forward, bumping Ignis’ shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting motion of solidarity.

“Well, well.”

Gladio turned, recognizing the voice of the woman - Vee, Gladio remembered - who’d invited them here. Sure enough, there she was - she’d put on a dark red silk robe and twisted her hair back into a dark knot at the back of her neck. A cigarette was dangling from between her lips, and she sauntered over, draping an arm around Gladio’s shoulders.

“Wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she added, smiling.

She smelled nice, Gladio thought, spicy and sweet at the same time. She was pretty, too, all tanned skin, dark eyes and red lips - exactly his type. Just the sort of girl he’d be interested in pursuing.

But he hadn’t come here for her, and so he stepped back, gently extricating himself from her grip. “Yeah, we, uh, had a bit of trouble gettin’ back here,” he said. “Place is packed tonight.”

“Always is,” another woman added, sidling up alongside Vee and throwing an arm around her waist. This one was fair where Vee was dark, platinum blonde hair framing a pale, heart-shaped face. She planted a kiss on Vee’s cheek, green eyes never leaving Gladio’s face. “Where’d you find this one, Vee? He’s gorgeous.”

“Back corner,” Vee replied, pausing to take a long draw from her cigarette.

It was apparently too long of a pause, for the other woman reached out and plucked the cigarette from between Vee’s teeth, putting it in her own mouth instead. “Yeah? Who’s working that corner?”

“Isadora.”

“Hmph.” The woman’s eyes flicked back to Ignis then, lighting up at whatever she saw. “And who’s this? Your boyfriend?”

“He’s just-”

“Ah, yes.”

Gladio’s jaw dropped, turning to Ignis with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“We’ve been friends for years, but only together a few short months,” Ignis added, stepping forward and sliding his arm around Gladio’s waist. He twisted, coming up on the tips of his toes, pressing his lips to Gladio’s ear. Gladio was so surprised he almost didn’t catch the words. “Perhaps it’s best they don’t know we’re single. I don’t like the look that one’s giving me.”

Oh.

Yeah, okay. That made sense. Didn’t change the fact that his heart had jumped up into his fucking throat at the thought of Ignis calling himself his _boyfriend_ , of course.

Shit, he was getting too far ahead of himself.

“Adorable,” Vee crooned, snatching her cigarette back from her friend. “So hands off, Helena. They’re off limits.”

The blonde pouted, but only for a moment, giving them both a grin before sauntering back over to the conversation she’d left, resumed now that Gladio and Ignis had been accounted for.

Vee stepped forward, shaking her head. “Gotta watch her,” she confided. “She’s always ready to pounce. Smart move, pretending you’re dating.”

Gladio frowned, and Ignis opened his mouth to protest, but Vee beat them to it.

“Don’t bother,” she said, smiling. “I can read lips.” Her cigarette’s light fading, she pulled it from her teeth and squashed it in a nearby ashtray. “But I’m also not a punk, so your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you,” Ignis murmured.

“Don’t mention it.” She waved a hand, motioning for them to follow her as she headed towards a black leather couch in the far corner. "I'm glad you two managed to make it. Things were starting to get boring." She sat down across from the two of them, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her pocket. “Want a smoke?” she offered, holding the carton out to the two of them.

Gladio was ready to shake his head, a pleasant “No thanks,” on his lips, but Ignis sat forward, reaching one hand out.

“I’ll try one.”

Vee grinned at him, flicking the carton open with one red-lacquered fingernail.

Gladio watched as Ignis put the cigarette between his lips, leaning forward to light it with the lighter Vee had snapped to life. Wordlessly, he leaned back, catching the cigarette between his fingers, inhaling deeply.

Fuck, but it was sexy.

Only then, Ignis let out a violent cough, putting a hand over his mouth as the smoke poured back out. Vee chuckled as she lit up her own cigarette. “First time?” she asked.

Ignis nodded, eyeing the cigarette in his hands dubiously. “Is it so obvious?”

“Just a little.” Vee shifted, drawing a leg up underneath her body. “Here - you have to inhale it, draw it into your lungs. Slow, though. Go easy. Like this.” She demonstrated a better technique, holding the smoke inside her mouth for a bit before blowing it out.

Ignis tried again, following her example. “Much better,” he admitted, though his voice was still hoarse and his eyes looked a bit watery. Still, he pressed on, taking another drag, and Gladio had to force himself to look away from how Ignis' lips curved around the cigarette.

“Gets easier, once you get used to it.” Vee shifted, turning to Gladio and holding out the carton. “How ‘bout you, big guy? You as much of a cigarette virgin as your friend, here?”  

Yeah.

He really fucking was, and didn’t have a problem keeping it that way.

But he also wasn’t a killjoy, and they _were_ supposed to be doing stupid shit tonight, so hey, what the hell. He reached out and grabbed one, letting Vee light it for him before sucking down a deep drag and exhaling.

He didn’t cough like Ignis had - but fucking _shit_ it burned like nothing else, and his eyes watered as he blew smoke everywhere. Fuck, but that tasted awful, too. Acrid and burny, like tar. He looked down at the cigarette in his hands, frowning. And people liked this? Enough to do in a daily basis?

At least you could mix alcohol with something sweet.

This was just fucking gross.

But he had to admit, as he finished off the first cigarette and quickly accepted another, the side effects weren’t bad. He felt strangely alert and awake, his senses heightened. He felt _good._ He looked over at Ignis, curious to see if he was similarly affected, and grinned when he saw Ignis had laid a little farther back in his seat, a fresh cigarette in his fingers and a lazy smile on his face as he spoke with Vee.

How was he so sexy?

All the fucking time, too - didn’t matter what he was doing, or what he looked like, or how he was feeling. Ignis was just damn attractive - effortlessly sexy, fucking perfect even. Gods, here he was, smoking, something Gladio didn’t find personally appealing _at all_ , and he still wanted to pluck the damn thing from Ignis’ mouth and shove his tongue down the guy’s throat.

Fuck, he had it bad.

“Gladio?”

Gladio blinked. “What?”

“See something you like, big boy?” Vee asked, smirking, dark eyes flicking between the two of them.

Gladio looked back at Ignis, heart speeding up a bit when he noticed the flush high on Ignis’ cheeks. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Vee chuckled. “Maybe your relationship isn’t as pretend as you think,” she hummed.

“Or maybe I’m just super fucking obvious,” Gladio said, sitting up to squash his cigarette butt into the ashtray on the nearby table, replacing it with a tiny little sandwich.

“Maybe.”

“Vee!” A woman with coppery skin and dark, curling hair slid down into the seat neat to Vee, turning her by the elbow. “I need your advice.”

Ignis turned towards Gladio as Vee's attention was diverted, a bit of a grimace on his face. “My mouth tastes disgusting,” he admitted. “Like an ashtray.”

Gladio chuckled, running his tongue over his teeth. “I feel you,” he said. “I need to fucking brush my teeth.”

“Though I do feel rather nice,” Ignis continued, sighing.

“Yeah?” Gladio’s smile turned fond at Ignis’ wide eyes, at how his pupils were huge and black.

“It’s how I feel after my first cup of Ebony in the morning. Everything’s a little clearer, the colors are all brighter…”

“Shit, Iggy, maybe you need to drink a little less coffee.”

Ignis snorted. “As if I could manage Noctis without it.”

“Sure you could,” Gladio disagreed. “I’ve seen you in action, Iggy - you can do anything you fuckin’ put your mind to. Even dealin’ with Princess at five a.m.”

“Thank the Six I’ve managed to convince the Council to not have meetings before school hours,” Ignis said, shaking his head. “Small victories, Gladio.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing, and then turned to face Gladio. “Is it affecting you? The nicotine?”

Gladio blinked. “Maybe?” he replied. “A little?”

His breath caught in his throat as Ignis put a hand on his cheek. His fingertips were calloused, just like Gladio’s own were, but cool instead of warm. “Your eyes are fever bright,” he murmured. The hand moved up, pressing against Gladio’s forehead, and then back down, palming his cheek. “And you’re hot.”

Gladio gave him a cheeky grin. “That a comment on my looks, or my temperature?” he asked.

Ignis froze, relaxing a moment later. “Both, I suppose,” he murmured.

Gladio reached up, putting his hand atop Ignis’. “You’re pretty hot too, y’know,” he said. “Got the prettiest damn eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Ignis snorted, despite the pleased gleam in said pretty eyes. “Alright, now I’m _certain_ you’re feeling the nicotine rush,” he said.

“What, I can’t think you’re pretty?”

Ignis hesitated, withdrawing his hand and returning it to his lap. Gladio thought maybe he’d pushed it too far, but then Ignis shook his head ever so slightly and offered Gladio a shy smile. “I’m flattered you think so.”

_Fucking hell._

Gladio sat up, throwing his latest cigarette away nearly untouched. Fuck it. He’d spent enough time here. Ignis smelled too good, and looked too good, and _fuck,_ these things he was fucking saying, and Gladio didn’t want to waste any more time sitting around in a titty bar when he could have Ignis sitting in his lap and kissing him senseless. He reached a hand out to ask Ignis if he was ready to leave.

A sudden yell from across the room caught their attention, and everyone turned to see a man with dark hair and a long beard jump up from his chair, outraged. “The fuck, man?” he cried, anger flashing in his eyes.

Another man, this one looking decidedly unfriendly, crossed his arms over his chest, kicking at a stain on the red carpet - bright white, looked like powder. “This ain’t that kind of place, _man,_ ” he said. “Take that shit somewhere else.”

“That was almost two thousand fucking gil!”

“So?”

“So you fucking owe me money!”

“Yeah, no.”

The first man leapt forward, grabbing the second by the shirt. “Shit,” Vee said, rising to her feet. She turned to Gladio and Ignis, holding out a hand in warning. “You two - stay here. Don’t get involved.” She went to join the group slowly forming around the two men, pretty features morphed into an anxious frown.

“Is that-?” Ignis leaned forward, peering at the floor, trying to see the carpet in between dozens of pairs of legs.

“Yeah,” Gladio replied, swallowing thickly. “It is.”

“...dammit.” He shifted, looking around the room. “We need to leave, Gladio. If this escalates...”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Gladio ran a hand over his face. “Okay - see any ways out?”

“Unfortunately, just the door we came in through.”

“Fuck.”

“Agreed.”

“We’ll have to risk it.”

“Perhaps… perhaps we should wait,” Ignis offered. He had had to lean closer to Gladio, speaking directly into his ear now so that he could still be heard. “Look.” He pointed across the room, to where things were getting more heated by the minute. A third man had jumped into the fray, trying to push the two men apart, and several women were grabbing for arms, trying to pull the two original men apart.

“You think?”

“Maybe things’ll quiet down-”

“Fuck you!”

The man with the beard lunged for the other, one fist careening forward in a wild punch. The second man avoided it at the last second, letting out a yell of his own as he broke free from the women’s hold and stomped forward, grabbing the other guy in a chokehold.

“Okay, maybe not,” Gladio said. He turned to Ignis. “Ready to go?”

“Quite.”

They stood, inching around the group of people and edging for the door. The fighting seemed to be dying down, a few more men and women stepping into the middle and trying to force the two combatants apart. The man with the beard was sporting a bloodied eyebrow and a broken nose, courtesy of the other man’s torn, bloody knuckles. But he seemed to have a few hits in as well, his opponent nursing his side as if he’d been kicked in the ribs.

“Get out of here!” the man wheezed, pointing towards the door. “I ever see your fucking face here again-"

“You’ll what?” the bearded man demanded. “Yeah? You want me to break some more bones, yeah?”

“Look in a fucking mirror, asshole! You’re the one with with the beat-up face!”

They lunged for one another again, and again, they were pulled back. Ignis shook his head in disgust, shuffling a little closer to Gladio. “Let’s leave, while they’re occupied,” he said.

Gladio nodded, hand reaching out for the door handle.

“Hey!”

He froze, the room going silent.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

The bearded man had noticed them leaving.

He’d turned to face them now, eyes roving in panic. Gladio frowned, pulling himself up to his full height and hoping the guy would back down. “We’re leaving,” he said flatly.

“Like hell you are!”

“Claudius-”

“Get off me!” The bearded man swatted a woman away, taking a few steps forward. “And you two! You’re goin’ nowhere until all of this gets sorted out.”

“I said, we’re leaving,” Gladio reiterated, more firmly this time. “I’m not really havin’ fun anymore.”

“Not having fun?” The man threw his head back, laughing. “Of course we’re having fun! Look around! Isn’t this fucking _fun?”_ He picked up a bottle of liquor and threw it to the floor; it shattered, sending out a spray of booze and glass. Someone screamed, and another woman yelped as the glass cut into her exposed calves.

“Claudius, what the hell?!”

“Shit!”

“Fuck man, you’re gonna pay for that-”

The door suddenly burst open, and Gladio fell backwards with a curse, Ignis just barely catching him before he hit the ground. The rest of the people in the room followed suit, knocking each other over in their attempts to get away from the men and women in uniform flooding into the room.

“Police! Don’t move!”

The sudden yell had Gladio freeze where he was standing, and Ignis’ hands on his arm went very tight.

“Everyone stay calm! Stay where you are!” Their leader, a short, stocky woman, stepped forward, her mouth set in a grim line. Luckily, everyone obeyed her command, and the hand that had been hovering over her weapon shifted instead for the radio strapped to her collar. “Chief, we’re gonna need a forensics team down here. Two injured, no casualties.” 

A staticy voice replied back a moment later. “Roger that. Got a second team heading your way. Any minors?”

The woman surveyed the room; her eyes lingered on Gladio and Ignis a moment longer than Gladio would’ve liked, and Gladio felt his stomach clench tight. He wasn't fucking underage, and yet the way she was looking at him had him on edge. But then she looked away, eyes settling on the nearest table, and he felt like he could breathe again. “Negative, sir.”

“Keep me posted.”

The woman let go of her radio and turned, barking out quick, terse orders to the rest of the officers. She was quick and efficient - Gladio could’ve appreciated that, if he wasn’t too busy feeling like he was going to be sick. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ignis sink down into a nearby chair, holding his head in his hands. He didn’t look so hot, his face white as a sheet.

“Shit,” he muttered, putting a hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “You okay, Iggy?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, voice faint. “Just-”

“Excuse me - Mr. Amicitia? Mr. Scientia?”

Gladio turned, frowning, surprised to see the policewoman standing before him. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked.

“You know us?” Ignis added, wobbily rising to his feet.

She shot Ignis a scandalized look. “Of course I do,” she snapped. “You’re the prince’s foremost retainers. You think there’s any officer in Insomnia who doesn’t know your names and faces?” She shook his head. “Look, I’m not gonna ask why you’re here. I don’t care. But I gotta get you out of here before the press shows up.”

“What?” Gladio asked. “Why?”

“We’ll cause a scene, if we’re here,” Ignis murmured. “The prince’s advisors, caught in a raid on a strip club? Where there were _drugs_ involved?” He shook his head. “It’s bad, Gladio - very bad.”

The woman nodded. “He gets it.”

“Shit,” Gladio breathed.

“You got anyone you can call? Someone who can come pick you up and get you to a safe place?”

Gladio hesitated, looking to Ignis.

Ignis had a forlorn look on his face, lips pressed into a thin line. “Gladio,” he started, “Would you consider calling-”

“No,” Gladio balked. “No, no, no, no - fuck, Iggy, call anyone else. You got any friends who’d still be awake? How about that Harmonia girl?”

“Your father would be most discreet,” Ignis continued.

“Oh, fuck that-”

“-and your family’s manor is closer than the Citadel. He could be here in moments-”

“Yeah, and he’d fucking never let me hear the end of it-”

“ _Gladio-_ ”

“ _Fine.”_ Frustrated, Gladio grabbed for his phone, punching in his dad’s number. “But you owe me, Iggy. Fucking big time.”

Ignis sighed in relief.

“You know how much shit he’s gonna give me?” Gladio asked, holding the phone to his ear.

“I know.”

“My ass is toast.”

“I know.”

“I can kiss my weekends from here to eternity good-fucking-bye.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”  

Gladio eyed him, and then exhaled deeply. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The call went through then, a deep, gruff voice answering the phone. “Gladiolus? What is it? ...do you know what time it is?”

“Dad. Hey.”

“...Gladiolus?”

“So, funny story…”

* * * * *

“Clarus?”

Clarus Amicitia blinked, turning to find Cor staring up at him, bright eyes narrowed in concern.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Clarus shifted, pulling himself into a seated position. “I have to go,” he said, reaching for the shirt he’d discarded earlier.

Cor moved with him, setting aside the whiskey he’d been nursing. “What happened?” he asked.

Clarus snorted. “Gladiolus happened,” he said.

“What’d he do this time?”

Clarus paused, looking over at his friend. “Would you believe he’s in a strip club?”

Cor blinked. “Yes?”

“With Ignis Scientia?”

“...Yes?” Cor sounded less sure this time, his brows furrowing as his confusion increased.

“Would you believe Gladiolus and Ignis are sitting in a strip club, detained by police as they investigate an assault with associated drug paraphernalia?”

Clarus turned, heading for the door, not surprised when Cor was fast on his heels.

“I’m coming with you.”

Clarus nodded. “Always worried I’d get a call from the police someday,” he muttered. “I thought I’d gotten away with it, now that Gladiolus is grown.” He shook his head. “Apparently, I thought wrong.”

“I always thought it would be Iris.”

Clarus stopped short, frowning at his friend. “What did you say?”

Cor studied him for a moment, and then shrugged. “She’s the more dangerous of the two.”

Well.

Probably, yes.

Clarus reluctantly nodded in agreement and headed for the door, grabbing his jacket and the keys to his car. Cor had never taken his off, and he waited patiently as Clarus got his things together.

“You have your phone?”  

Cor blinked. “Of course.”

“And it has a camera?”

Cor raised an eyebrow, one of the corners of his mouth quivering. “Of course.”

Clarus clapped him on the shoulder, and then pushed out the door. “Make sure you get it all. I want photos, video, _everything._ Focus on Gladiolus, not Ignis. I need something on him to make up for that time he caught us in the Citadel. Think you can get that?”

Behind him, Cor snorted - as close as the man ever came to a laugh.

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really like a cigarette now. I must resist the temptation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APOLOGIES for how long it took this trash panda to get this out, I hope it isn't utter shit, I made it extra long just in case, and uh, there's sex and what I think is humor? 
> 
> Either way, thank y'all for reading this :) The support and kind words means a lot to me! <3

“Explain.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Gladio stuffed his hands in his pockets, doing his best to look straight ahead and meet his father's gaze head-on. That was the best thing to do in this situation, yeah? He'd been caught in a bit of a sticky situation, and there wasn't any way out, so he just had to fess up and tell the truth. Clarus Amiticia liked people who owned up to their mistakes. He liked people who accepted responsibility for their actions.

He also liked to get photographic evidence of his kids’ embarrassing moments, but Gladio would deal with that later. For now, he just wanted to get the hell out of here. He wanted to get him and Ignis far, far away from this damn bar and never come back again.

He opened his mouth, ready to proclaim his guilt, but Ignis beat him to it.

“It's my fault, sir.”

Clarus blinked, icy blue gaze shifting to Ignis. “You, Ignis?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ignis replied, nodding.

Gladio incredulous, stood there gaping as Ignis stood firm, telling his father about their plan to go out on the town for the night. He left out some of the details, sure, and he glossed over the parts where they'd been flirting - thank _fuck,_  his dad already gave him enough shit over his crush on Ignis - but he hit the high points, not sparing any details when it came to what had happened in the back room.

“So you see, sir, it's my fault we're even here. I asked Gladio to take me out; I assumed he had more experience with this sort of thing than me and would be able to point me in the right direction.”

Clarus turned to Cor, muttering something under his breath, and Ignis gave Gladio a small, tight-lipped smile.

He took a step closer, grabbing at Ignis’ hand. “Iggy, what're you doin’?” he hissed.

“Attempting to make it up to you,” Ignis shot back.

“They'll skin us both now-”

“Perhaps not.”

“What?”

“Look at them. They don't _seem_ to be angry.”

Gladio turned, eyeing the two older men curiously. They were bent together, heads close; every so often, one of them would turn back and look at Ignis and him, adding a little smirk or shake of the head. Iggy was right, then - they didn't look mad. If anything, they looked... amused?

Gladio wasn't sure that was an improvement, but hell, he’d take it.

“Maybe they realize this was beyond our control,” Ignis continued. “Extenuating circumstances, and whatnot.”

“Maybe,” Gladio allowed, “but we still smell like a fuckin’ ashtray, Iggy, and I think someone spilled booze on me, too-”

“Gladiolus.”

Gladio perked up, dropping Ignis’ hand and straightening up. “Yeah?”

“Is what Ignis has said true?”

Gladio looked over at Ignis. His friend gave him a meaningful look, inclining his jaw ever so slightly. He still wasn’t sure about this, whether or not his father would buy it. But they didn’t exactly have any other plans working at the moment, so he turned back to his father, steeling himself, and said,  “It is.”

“Mmm.” Clarus paused a moment, considering. “What was your plan?”

Gladio blinked. “Huh?”

“For the night,” Clarus explained. “Ignis came to you, asking you to take him out - asking you to help him have some fun. You two went out to eat, and then landed up in a strip club. What was next? Hmm? Did it have something to do with the bottle of whiskey you took from my liquor cabinet?”

Gladio winced; behind him, he heard Ignis make an odd, choking noise. “Ah…”

Clarus shook his head, looking backwards when Cor muttered something.

 _This is it,_ Gladio thought grimly. _I’m dead. I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead. Fucking done for. How did he even realize it was missing? He’s gotta have fifteen bottles in there-_

“You could have at least taken the expensive stuff.”

All the breath left Gladio’s lungs in a rush.

Cor snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like he knows what the good stuff is,” he retorted.

Clarus frowned, half-turning towards his old friend. “Do they not teach that in schools anymore? How to recognize a good whiskey when you see it?”

“...Clarus, they didn’t ever teach that in schools.”

“No?” Clarus huffed. “Well, they should. Everyone should know their spirits.”

Gladio kept looking between the two of them, confused. “Wait, you - you ain’t mad?” he demanded.

Clarus snorted. “Gods, no,” he replied. He stepped forward, clapping a hand on Gladio’s shoulder. “You picked the bottle of goat piss Regis bought me as a gag gift last year, son - drink all you want. Hell, don’t. Just get rid of the bottle for me.”

“I don’t - you mean -”

“That stuff’s ten gil a handle,” Cor informed him. “You might as well drink rubbing alcohol.”

Clarus grinned at him. “Remind me to teach you a thing or two about alcohol when you’re of age, Gladiolus. No son of mine is going to go to a bar and not know what sort of drink to order. No daughter, either, but I’ll tackle that when I get there. Now, come - let’s get you kids home.”

“That’s it?”

Ignis took a step forward. “Gladio, I don’t think-”

“You aren’t gonna yell at us? Ground me?”

Clarus blinked. “Do you want me to?” he asked.

“Fuck, no, but-”

“You said you weren't involved in any of that mess back at the bar, yes?”

“I wasn’t, neither of us were,” Gladio replied. “Dad, I-”

Clarus shrugged. “Then I believe you.”

It felt too easy. He’d gone out without permission, stolen alcohol from his father’s stores, nearly gotten _arrested_ , and there was just… nothing?

Ignis kept shooting him looks, as if to tell him to shut up and let it go. But Gladio couldn’t, not if the hammer was gonna fall as soon as they got back to the manor. That’s what it had to be, yeah? They were in public; his father didn’t wanna make a scene. Soon as they were in private, he was gonna tear the both of them a new one. And Gladio could live with that for himself, because hell, this had been his idea, and he was the one who’d dragged Ignis out, but for it to happen to Iggy?

Hell, no. That just wasn’t right, even if he had tried to take the blame for it.

“You ain’t bullshittin’ us?”

“Gladio!”

He ignored Ignis, taking a step towards his father. Clarus wasn’t the slightest bit fazed, looking down his long nose at Gladio.

“Gladiolus,” he said quietly, “Do you think you’re the first two members of the guard to ever go out on the town and get caught up in a mess?”

Gladio blinked. “Well, no.”

“And do you think this is the first midnight call I’ve gotten to come pick someone up?”

“...I’m guessing not.”

“No,” Clarus affirmed. “It’s not. You aren’t. And if I punished every recruit who went out to strip clubs, or occasionally got drunk off their ass, or went out to have a good time however the hell they saw fit, I wouldn’t have a _damn_ soldier in the entire city.”

Oh.

Well, yeah, that made sense. He’d met most of the guard, he knew what they were like. He guessed it wasn’t really surprising to hear that his dad and Cor had been called down to deal with things when they got out of hand.

“Besides,” Clarus added offhandedly, “Cor took pictures. I ever change my mind… I have options.”

They both laughed at him when he groaned, setting off for a large black SUV parked next to the curb. “Murder me, Iggy,” he said.

Ignis’ lips were fixed in a grim line. “I’m not certain that will get you out of anything,” he replied.

Gladio sighed.

“Yeah. Probably not.”

“Would you look at that!” Clarus’ voice was loud, no doubt meant to carry, and Gladio looked up, wondering what else the man could possibly be going on about. “There’s video footage too!”

“Fuck!”

* * * * *

The ride back to Ignis’ apartment was short and quiet - just as Ignis preferred it.

He felt odd, sitting there in the backseat next to Gladio, Clarus Amicitia and Cor Leonis talking quietly in the front. Should he speak? Apologize, again, for the inconvenience of having to retrieve them at such an hour? He turned towards Gladio, not missing how his friend was staring at his shoes, hands tucked into his pockets. A part of him wanted to say something comforting, or maybe something humorous to lighten the mood. But what would he say?

He wasn’t sure, and so he turned back to the window, watching as the brightly lit streets of Insomnia passed them by.

Soon enough, Clarus pulled up in front of Ignis’ apartment building. “Here you are, Ignis,” he said, turning back and giving Ignis a friendly sort smile.

“Thank you, sir,” Ignis replied, nodding his head respectfully. “I reiterate, this won’t happen again.”

Clarus just chuckled at that, as if he didn’t quite believe Ignis. “If you say so,” he said.

“I do.”

“Gladiolus? You getting out here?”

“Yeah, my car’s across the street.”

Clarus nodded. “Well - get on then.”

Gladio scrambled out of the car, coming around to stand next to Ignis on the sidewalk. Ignis offered him a smile, hoping it wasn’t as weak as it felt. He opened his mouth to speak, about to invite Gladio upstairs, when the passenger side window began to roll down, revealing Cor’s stoic face.

“Hey,” he said. “You two - take the morning off.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

“It’s late,” the Marshal continued. “So go upstairs and get some rest - if you can. I don’t want to see you in the Citadel before noon tomorrow. Got that?” His gaze shifted to Gladio. “You too.”

“Yes, sir,” Ignis replied, his words echoed by Gladio.

Cor started to roll up the window then, but Clarus held out a hand out, stopping him. “One more thing,” he said quickly. “Son-”

Gladio took a step forward. “Yeah?”

“There’s a great pastry shop around here, you know. Two blocks north, one block east. _Bon Matin,_ I think it’s called.” He grinned. “It’s a great place to grab a croissant early in the morning.”

Gladio blinked. “Okay,” he said.

“I think Ignis would like it too.”

Ignis would. He knew because he’d visited it perhaps a thousand times in an attempt to discover the secret to the perfect choux pastry. He’d yet to find it, of course - something about folding in the butter always eluded him. But he was getting better, and sooner or later, he’d get it just right.

But somehow, he didn’t think that Clarus was implying Gladio take him to the pastry shop to learn their trade secrets.

Gladio was scowling at his father, waving him away. “Yeah, yeah, fine,” he said. “Now leave.”

“And be safe! Use protect-”

“ _Dad!”_

The sound of Clarus Amicitia’s cackling could be heard for a good while - until the SUV turned at the next intersection, no less.

Ignis turned towards Gladio, clearing his throat. “You don’t have to take me to the patisserie,” he said quietly. “I’ve been before.”

“Don’t listen to him, Iggy,” Gladio muttered. “He’s just being an ass.” He shifted, finally bringing his hands out of his pockets and letting them hang more naturally at his side. A sign that he wasn’t quite so tense, perhaps? “But, uh, I will, y’know. Take you to the shop. If you wanna go.”

Ignis flushed at the offer, grateful for the night’s darkness. “I’d like that,” he admitted.

“Yeah? Want me to come get you ‘round eight?”

“Or…” Ignis offered, eyes flicking up to Gladio’s face. “You could just stay the night.”

Gladio froze, looking down through his lashes at Ignis. It made Ignis feel unexpectedly warm, and he hoped the offer wasn’t too forward. The other had spent the night here more times than he could count, but that was… well, it was different than it was now.

Now that they knew they were attracted to one another.

“You sure?”

Ignis nodded. “Yes.”

“Then… okay.” Gladio offered him a tentative smile, and Ignis allowed himself to relax a bit.

There was nothing to fear. It was just Gladio - Gladio, his friend, his comrade, the man who’d taken to eating most of his leftovers and loaning him old paperback novels whenever he mentioned he was bored. Gladio, who’d also mentioned that he thought Ignis was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

Ignis’ heart skipped a beat at the thought.

He led the way into his apartment, placing his shoes near the door. Gladio flipped the lock shut behind them, following Ignis into the living room and sitting down on the couch.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Iggy.”

“I don’t have much, but I can offer water, soda, milk, tea-”

“Iggy.”

“Or perhaps you’d prefer the bourbon you snatched from your father?”

Gladio caught his hand as he bent down to turn on a lamp. Ignis started, surprised into looking over at Gladio. He was smiling, eyes soft. “Sit with me,” he murmured.

It wasn’t an order, but Ignis nonetheless felt compelled to obey. He shrugged out of Gladio’s jacket, laying it on the back of a nearby chair, and then sank down to the cushions beside his friend. He maintained a distance of about a foot, wanting to give the other some space. But was it too much? Did he look standoffish? Perhaps he should inch closer, lean back to give the appearance of ease -

“I had a good time tonight.”

Ignis blinked. Then, because he couldn’t quite help it, he laughed. “Really? That was your idea of fun?”

“Okay,” Gladio said, drawing in a leg and turning towards him. “So getting caught up in that police raid wasn’t exactly a good time. But before that - it was nice, yeah? Dinner? And the club? Wouldn’t mind doin’ it again some time.”

A little thrill ran through Ignis, and he had to fight not to grin like an idiot at the admission. “Dinner, or the club?” he asked. His voice was light, breathy - _aroused_ , his mind supplied, less than helpfully.

“Who needs the club if I can look at you all night?” Ignis snorted, and even Gladio laughed. “Okay, that was bad, even for me.”

“I’m flattered, just the same.”

“Yeah?”

Ignis nodded.  

“Good.”

Silence fell between them - a minute at first, stretching on into five, and then ten. Ignis fought to hold himself still, wondering what he was supposed to do next in this sort of predicament. For he’d never _been_ in this type of situation before. Should he… kiss Gladio? Touch him? He was woefully short on experience, and while he was more than willing to try anyways, he didn’t want to overstep.

But... would it be overstepping? Gladio had nearly kissed him back at the club, hadn’t he? Just before they’d gone to the back room? Anything he did would be welcome, then, wanted, even. He should just stop dithering and do something about it, surely -

“So…”

Ignis had never been more grateful to hear Gladio speak. He cleared his throat, giving his friend a shy smile. “So.”

“We, uh, kinda got interrupted back there,” Gladio said. “In the bar, I mean.”

“A couple of times, as I recall.”

“Yeah. We did. And then everything went to shit.”

Ignis hesitated. “But we’re here now,” he said softly. He shuffled closer, his knee knocking into Gladio's, laid a tentative hand on his arm. “And I very much wish to… Gladio?"

Gladio’s eyes snapped up from where they’d been fixed on Ignis’ hand. “Yeah?”  

He was nervous. That much had to be obvious to Gladio. Better to tell the truth then, yes? To admit his inexperience? He only hoped Gladio wouldn’t mock him for it.

An irrational thought, to be sure, for Gladio wasn’t cruel, but one he couldn’t quite put to rest.

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath.

“I've never done this before.”

“Done what? Sex?” Gladio shrugged. “No shame in that, Iggy, just do what feels good. Six, we don’t even have to have sex if you don’t wanna-”

“No,” Ignis said sharply. “I meant - kissing. I've never kissed someone before.”

Gladio had to fight not to stare. “No one?” he asked. Ignis shook his head. “Never?”

“I hadn't the time,” Ignis snapped, brows furrowing.

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Ignis looked down, playing with the cuff of his sleeve.

There. It was out in the open. He’d admitted it.

Gladio wasn’t saying anything though. Instead, he sat there, staring, eyes wide, lips parted. Did he think it incomprehensible that someone their age couldn’t have been kissed? Probably. Gladio had likely had his own first kiss when he was prepubescent. He’d certainly been attractive enough even then to elicit that sort of attention.

Gods, now he felt pathetic. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut? If he hadn’t said anything, he could have just blamed his lack of technique on rusty skills. He could have claimed he just hadn’t kissed anyone in a while - it wasn’t _technically_ a lie. If he admitted “a while” was equivalent to his entire life.

“So kiss me.”

Ignis’ head shot up. “What?”

“Kiss me,” Gladio repeated. “Then you can’t say you’ve never done it.”

Ignis couldn’t argue with that - and he very, _very_ much did want to kiss Gladio. Already, he could barely look away from the other’s lips, slightly parted, slightly chapped, but still full and bowed and pink. What would they taste like? What would they feel like?

There was only one way to find out.

He sat up straight, leaning forward, and pressed his lips to Gladio’s. He kept the pressure for only a moment, just long enough for Gladio to rest a hand on his waist, and then he was pulling back.

“Well?” he asked, anxious for feedback.  

Gladio frowned. “Well, what?”

“Did I - was that satisfactory?”

Gladio laughed, fingers tightening on Ignis’ waist. “You gotta do it longer than that, Iggy,” he murmured. “Here - like this.”

Before Ignis could respond, Gladio was kissing him - _really_ kissing him, not like Ignis’ clumsy earlier attempt. His lips were forceful as they moved over Ignis’, demanding but not overly aggressive. Ignis, unthinking, pushed back, and Gladio made an encouraging sort of noise, his other hand settling on Ignis’ arm and drawing him in closer. Each touch made Ignis feel warm all over - and desperate. Desperate for more, desperate to get closer, desperate to get as much of Gladio as was humanly possible.

When Gladio finally drew away, Ignis found himself panting. He opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, surprised to see that somehow, he’d ended up in Gladio's lap, his legs a jumbled heap between them, and his hands were curled behind Gladio's neck.

“How was that?” Gladio murmured, thumb rubbing a circle at Ignis’ hip.

Ignis bit his lip, trying and no doubt failing to not seem too eager. “Can we do it again?”

Gladio just grinned and kissed him.

This time, he wasn't quite so gentle. He licked at Ignis’ lips with his tongue, tracing the shape of them and coaxing them open, and when Ignis finally did so, he wasted no time deepening the kiss.

Ignis made a surprised little noise, almost drawing back. But then he pressed forward, tentative, his own tongue poking at Gladio's lips, and Gladio couldn't help but groan as their mouths moved together. His arms, loosely linked around Ignis, tightened, pulling him in close, and Ignis shuddered against him, finally wrenching their lips apart.

“Gladio,” he panted.

“Yeah?”

He didn't answer, bringing his hands up to Gladio's face and kissing him, deep. Gladio responded enthusiastically, hands splayed wide on Ignis’ back, not fighting it when Ignis pushed him back against the couch’s armrest. He tasted of cigarettes and cream soda, and the feel of his lips, slowly becoming kiss-swollen and red, was altogether intoxicating. Already, he couldn’t get enough.

The hand on his back started inching down to his waist, and Ignis froze.

Instantly, Gladio broke the kiss, drawing back. “Tell me to stop,” he said. His voice had gone rough and husky, and Ignis shivered, the sound of it going straight to his cock. He was already half-hard just from this; the thought was a little frightening. If Gladio could do this to him just by _kissing_ him…

What would happen if he touched Ignis?

He wanted to find out. “Go ahead,” he said, taking ahold of Gladio’s hand and pressing it back towards his waist. “Take it off.”

Gladio obliged him, pulling Ignis’ shirt off in one motion and letting it fall to the floor. He might have felt self-conscious about it, had Gladio not immediately changed their positions, laying Ignis down and pressing him down into the couch, his mouth hot at Ignis’ throat.

He didn’t stop there - kisses trailed down his neck and all across the dips and planes of his torso. Across pectoral muscles, over taut, smooth abdominals, Gladio’s lips worshipped him, kissing here, biting there. He sucked the skin on Ignis’ ribs into his mouth without warning, and Ignis cried out at the sudden twinge of pain. The noise quickly turned into a moan when Gladio started laving the bite with his tongue, and Ignis put a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.

It seemed strange to like such a thing. Gladio had bitten him, his teeth etching a purplish mark into his skin. He shouldn’t have liked it. But the sight of it, stark against his pale flesh, had quite the opposite effect, and Ignis felt a familiar twinge of lust at the sight of it, his cock twitching in his pants.

“Is this okay?” Gladio murmured, resting his chin on Ignis’ sternum. “Not… too much?”

Ignis was grateful for the concern. But he shook his head, certain of what he wanted. He reached a hand up to twist his hand in the fabric of Gladio’s shirt. “Take this off,” he murmured.

Again, Gladio obeyed.

Ignis gave himself but a moment to admire the view before pulling Gladio down towards him, wanting to see what it felt like to have Gladio’s skin pressed against his. He was warm, almost hot, his skin smooth against Ignis’ palm. Ignis couldn’t help but run his hands all up and down the expanse of it, again and again and again, even Gladio’s kisses not enough to distract him from his goal. Gladio was a character study in texture, and Ignis wanted to memorize every inch of him, learn every scar and mole, every knob of bone and every hard strip of muscle.

Above him, Gladio seemed intent on doing the same. Though his mouth was busy, he kept ghosting his hands over Ignis’ arms. He couldn’t seem to find a place he wanted to put them. They would start at Ignis’ neck, cradling his jaw, and then flit down, trailing over his collarbones and dipping into the hollow at the base of his throat. Once, he went even further, circling a dusky nipple, and Ignis made another embarrassing noise at the rush of sensation that flooded him.

Gladio paused, drawing back and looking at Ignis as he repeated the motion.

Ignis’ toes curled, and he threw his head to the side, not wanting Gladio to see what he was sure was a less than flattering face. But Gladio turned his head back, kissing at the skin just before his ear. “You can look at me,” he said. “If you want.”

“I can’t,” Ignis insisted.

“You can,” Gladio murmured, lips easing down to the hollow at the base of his ear. Ignis squirmed, a gasp leaving his throat as Gladio bit down, hard, sucking another mark onto his skin. He’d have to hide it in the morning, buy some sort of product to cover it. Make-up, perhaps? Though he hadn’t the faintest idea what he would need to get.

All thought of cosmetics soon went out the proverbial window as Gladio shifted to ease himself into a more comfortable position, his knee accidentally brushing Ignis’ groin.

Ignis inhaled sharply at the sudden touch, pleasure sparking all the way up his spine. Without thinking, he jerked away as if he’d been burned, even as he wanted to take hold of Gladio and keep him there.

Gladio froze, pulling back just enough that he could look Ignis in the face. “Iggy?”

“I’m sorry,” Ignis said automatically, scrambling to sit up.

Gladio frowned at him. “For what?”

“For - that noise,” Ignis replies. “For moving away from you like that.”

To his surprise, Gladio smiled. “Iggy, you don’t have to apologize for makin’ noise,” he said. “It’s normal, yeah? I, uh… kinda like it, honestly.”

That startled Ignis. “Truly?”

“Hell yeah,” Gladio said, nodding. “It’s sexy.”

“I thought… well, I suppose I’m used to keeping quiet when I do it myself, and I hadn’t thought that someone else might enjoy listening to me.”

Gladio groaned, hand momentarily tightening on Ignis’ arm.

“What is it?” Ignis asked, worried he’d said something wrong.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Tellin’ me what you do when you jerk off.” Gladio’s head fell forward, landing on Ignis’ chest. Ignis could feel his breath, hot and damp against his skin. It should have felt disgusting; instead, it sent a shiver down his spine.

Abruptly, Gladio sat up, fixing his eyes on Ignis’ face. “D’you have any idea how bad I wanna make you come?” he asked.

Ignis inhaled sharply, his cock giving an enthusiastic twitch of approval at Gladio’s words.

“But shit, I don’t wanna do something you don’t want to do,” Gladio continued. “So you gotta tell me, Iggy - what do I do here? What d’you want me to-”

“Touch me.”

He’d muttered the words, their pitch barely above a whisper. But Gladio snapped his mouth shut nonetheless, eyes searching.

“Touch me, Gladio,” Ignis repeated, more firmly this time. “Please?”

Gladio scooted down a few inches, propping himself up on one arm and resting the other on the band on Ignis’ pants. His hand was only inches away from Ignis’ cock; he could practically feel it through his trousers. Just a little further, and he’d be-

“Iggy?”

Ignis released the lip he hadn’t realized he’d been worrying. “Yes?”

“You gonna breathe there?”

All the breath left his lungs at once, brows snapping down over his eyes. “I was not holding my breath,” he snapped.

Gladio grinned. “You so were.”

“If I was, it was because you’re insisting on keeping me in suspense-”

Without warning, Gladio moved his hand, cupping him and giving a light squeeze. Ignis gasped, the words dying on his lips as heat flooded his veins, setting his blood afire. The noise changed to a moan when Gladio kept up the pressure, pressing insistently at the seam of his zipper.

“Gladio-”

“Good?”

Ignis nodded, lip once more between his teeth as he fought to stem the sounds pouring from his throat. It was just too good, this; he wasn’t a stranger to pleasuring himself, but to have someone else’s hand on him, even with a layer preventing skin-on-skin contact? He had to resist the urge to buck up into Gladio’s hand, to not arch his back and seek more friction.

Gladio seemed to know what he wanted anyways.

“Can I take these off?”

Ignis nodded frantically, and between the two of them, they managed to get the jeans off, falling to join their shirts on the floor. Clad in nothing but his underwear, Ignis couldn’t help but feel a little exposed. But then Gladio groaned, pulling Ignis in for another heated kiss, and his self-consciousness faded.

Between kisses, Ignis could sense Gladio ridding himself of his own pants. A little thrill went through him at the thought, and he opened his eyes, wanting to see for himself what Gladio looked like in nothing but his underwear.

Of course Gladio wasn’t wearing any.

Instead of boxers, Ignis was greeted with the sight of Gladio’s very hard, very _big_ cock, already slick with precome, and he couldn’t help the noise that he made.

Gladio grinned at him, hand caught on the band of Ignis’ underwear. “See something you like?”

Ignis nodded, taking hold of Gladio’s hand and shoving it down.

“Gee, someone’s impatient.”

“Yes,” Ignis breathed, “Yes, he is.”

The first touch of Gladio’s hand on him was like a brand. Ignis bucked up into his fist, keening when Gladio’s thumb lingered in the slit at the top of his cock. His fingers dug into the muscle of Gladio’s back, teeth clenching at the wave of sheer desire that washed over him.

“Fuck, Iggy,” Gladio groaned. “That’s-” He didn’t finish the sentence, for Ignis had snaked a hand down and grabbed his length, giving him a few strokes in imitation of what Gladio was doing to him.

“Tell me what to do,” he panted.

“A little harder, maybe?” Gladio encouraged. Ignis complied. “Ah yeah, that’s better. Fuck, that’s good.” He leaned down to kiss Ignis again; it was sloppy, more tongue than lips, but Ignis didn’t mind. Nor did he mind the sweat dripping down his temples, or the heat building between them. Everything was perfect, just as it was. He wouldn’t change a thing.

Well.

He wouldn’t change anything except that he wished it could last longer.

As it was, he was already hurtling towards orgasm, lungs heaving, thigh clenching. He could feel the familiar tendrils coiling in his gut, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight it.

“You close?”

Gladio hadn’t let up once, his hand still working frantically at Ignis’ cock. At his words, he picked up the pace, stroking a little faster, a little harder. Ignis keened, arching up into him, eyes squeezing shut, when he felt a warm hand palm his cheek.

“Hey,” Gladio panted.

Ignis wrenched his eyes back open, words dying on his lips at the look on Gladio’s face, at the heat he saw there.

“I wanna see you,” Gladio continued. “I wanna see it when you come-”

Ignis moaned, as much at the sentiment as at the pleasure cresting within him.

“Please, Iggy?”

“Gladio, I-”

“C’mon, Iggy, do it, do it, c’mon, babe-”

The unexpected sobriquet did it. With a startled cry, Ignis came, hot spend streaking over Gladio’s fist and up onto his belly. His hand twisted in the hairs at the nape of Gladio’s neck, and for a moment, he saw nothing but pure white light - but then he came back to himself, lungs heaving, Gladio’s awed, wonderstruck face forever etched into his mind.

He said something. He thought it was Gladio’s name, but he couldn’t really hear it. Gladio did, though, and he made an odd, happy noise, face transforming into one of his huge, trademark smiles.

A moment later, he joined Ignis in release, breathing going ragged as he came. He barely managed to keep himself from falling forward, catching himself on his elbows at the last second. The angle brought their faces together once more, and this time, it was Ignis who leaned forward to kiss him.

He kept it lazy and slow - all they were likely capable of at this point. But there was feeling behind it, and genuine affection, and Ignis felt he might burst from happiness.

It was Gladio who broke the kiss, pulling away with a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry about that,” he muttered.

“About what?” Ignis asked, frowning.

“I called you ‘babe’,” Gladio reminded him. He plucked the glasses from Ignis’ face, setting them on the coffee table. “Didn’t mean to, Iggy, I swear - it just kinda slipped out.”

Ignis felt his face go hot; luckily, he thought it already very red, and so he doubted Gladio would notice much of a difference. “I liked it,” he admitted.

Gladio stilled. “Yeah?”

“It’s… nice,” he replied. “And far, far more aesthetically appealing than ‘Iggy’.”

Gladio looked offended. “Hey, Iggy is a personalized, one-of-a-kind nickname!” he protested. “Only you can be Iggy. Anyone could be babe.”

“I… see."

“...or you could be both.”

Ignis was silent, not wanting to admit just how much that thought pleased him. Of course, this was all under the assumption that he was the only one Gladio would be calling “babe”. If he wasn’t, the idea was decidedly less attractive.

The mood soured, and he frowned, about to open his mouth to ask when Gladio spoke.

“Iggy.”

“Hmm?”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“ _What?”_

“Is that a yes?”

“Is that a-” Ignis smacked his arm, sitting up and forcing Gladio to either sit up as well or risk falling off the couch. “You think now’s the time to ask me that?”

“You think it’s _not_?”

“This - this is very sudden, Gladio.”

“...oh.”

“That isn’t a no,” Ignis quickly added. “I… the idea is appealing.”

Gladio’s face brightened as quickly as it had fallen. “Then…”

“Give me the night to sleep on it?”

“‘Course, Iggy.”

“Thank you.” Ignis shifted, bending over to gather up his clothing. “Now, I’m going to sleep. I’m exhausted. Would you care to join me?”

“You don’t want me to leave?”

Ignis paused halfway to his bedroom. “Well, I’m not going to kick you out after what we just did,” he said.  

“But… I thought-” Gladio huffed, shaking his head. “Nope. Not gonna do it.” He looked up again, shirt and pants balled up in his hands. “You want me to take the couch?”

Ignis sighed. “Now you’re just being purposefully coy.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

* * * * *

Ignis woke the next morning to a vase of flowers and a platter of pastries, artfully arranged on a plate. He blinked, wondering if he was still dreaming - but no, there was a pleasant ache in his muscles and the smell of coffee was wafting pleasantly in the air. It had to be real, as real as last night had been. 

But then, if he wasn’t dreaming, then where had all of this come-

_Gladio._

Ignis sat up, blankets pooling around his waist. As if conjured by his thoughts, he realized he could hear faint humming from the kitchen, accompanied by the scrubbing of a brush against a pan.

Gladio. He had gone to the pastry shop before Ignis had woken and bought Ignis breakfast. He had bought Ignis  _flowers._ It was unexpectedly sweet, and a warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight streaming in the window suffused Ignis. Smiling to himself, he grabbed a pastry, bringing it to his lips and taking a bite. It was delicious, the flavors of fruit and sweet dough bursting on his tongue, and by the time he’d put on his robe, he’d eaten half of it.

He padded out into the living room, pausing at the doorway to the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Gladio, clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants - Ignis’ sweatpants, judging by how they were several inches too short. Ignis smiled at how ridiculously endearing he found that.

“Gladio.”

Gladio whirled around, nearly dropping the mug in his hands. He smiled when he saw it was Ignis.

“Iggy. Hey.” He pointed to a carafe on the counter. “I made coffee.”

“And bought me breakfast,” Ignis noted, walking over and pouring himself a cup. He brought it his lips, inhaling the aroma for a moment before taking a sip. It was perfectly brewed, strong enough to wake him up, but not so strong that it was acrid. “The flowers were nice as well.”

Gladio flushed. “Yeah? You liked ‘em?”

“Gladioluses. A nice touch.”

“Hah. I thought it was clever.”

“It was - thoughtful, too.”

Gladio reached for a cloth to dry his hands, his arm brushing against Ignis’ shoulder. The contact was brief, incidental, even, and yet Ignis found himself leaning into it.

“Gladio?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Your question last night - I thought on it, and I think I've come to a conclusion. Yes.”

“Yeah, I - oh. _Oh._ ” He broke out into a wide grin, edging a little closer. “Really?”

“Truly.”

Gladio surged forward and kissed him, almost knocking the cup from his hands in his enthusiasm. Ignis might have scolded him had he not been kissing Gladio back just as eagerly.

“Shit,” Gladio breathed, one of his hands curling around Ignis’ neck. “This is - fuck. I never thought you’d say yes. Not in a million years.”

Ignis frowned. “Then why did you ask?”

“Had to try, yeah?” Gladio replied. “Before yesterday, I thought you’d never be interested in me that way. But then with dinner, and the strip club, and last night, I just - I went for, Iggy. After all that crap with the police, I thought, ‘Hey, something good’s gotta happen now.’ So why not ask?”

“When something bad happens, it doesn’t necessarily mean something good will come along to cancel it out, Gladio,” Ignis replied. “That isn’t how life works.”

“Sure it is,” Gladio disagreed. “It’s physics, Ignis. Equal and opposite reaction.”

“Physics? What on Eos does physics have to do with-”

Gladio kissed him again, and while Ignis wasn’t so certain Gladio understood the laws of the universe as well as he thought, he was willing to let it slide.

This once.

Besides - he found he rather agree with Gladio.

Going out on the town as they had had been stupid and foolish. They could easily have gotten hurt or fallen in trouble. Instead, they’d discovered that it was easier to bear hardship together than alone, and that blowing off steam could come in many different forms.

A good lesson, he thought.

Gladio’s hand started to creep down his side then, and Ignis could help but smirk.

 _Yes,_ he thought to himself, hooking an ankle around Gladio’s and drawing him closer.

_Many forms, indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! :)


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